Higgins's final recordings capture something honest—two players listening hard to each other.
Which Way Is East arrived three years after it was made, which feels fitting for an album that already carries the weight of goodbye. Charles Lloyd and Billy Higgins recorded these duets in January 2001, just four months before Higgins died. You can hear them working things out together—no other instruments, no safety net, just saxophone and drums having a conversation.
Lloyd brings his usual curiosity to the session, that restless harmonic sensibility that made him interesting even in his free-jazz years. But this isn't about him pushing forward; it's about restraint. Higgins meets him with a drummer's economy—he's not trying to fill space or prove anything. What strikes you is how much room there is between the notes. Lloyd will stretch out on a phrase and Higgins will leave silence, then crack back with something small and exact. It feels like watching two people who've played together for decades actually listening instead of just reacting.
This isn't the place to start with either musician. If you want Lloyd, begin with his 1960s output or his work with the Marvels. If you want Higgins, his decades with Art Blakey and then countless Blue Note sessions show why he mattered so much. Which Way Is East works best if you already know something about both of them—then this album reads differently. It's a private moment made public, two musicians saying goodbye without saying it. That's not nothing.